twat-pus did. Put my wood down fer a week, Chief—I
mean Jinny’s pussy, not the ranch dip—and I’se wanted to bitch-slap
her so bad fer pullin’that stunt, but, a’corse, I didn’t ‘cos Micah
Hays
don’t never strike a woman.”
Kinion sat bent over the wastecan, his mouth cranked open, and
sweat breaking on his brow. No, no, please, he thought. He didn’t
want to be vomiting in the station; such an act would not seem
becoming of the Luntville Chief of Police. Eventually, though, his
stomach settled down and he reclined back, pawing his massive
belly.
“Hays, I don’t never wanna hear another’a yer dirty stories.
Ever! Ya hear me?”
“Right, Chief. But I’ll tell ya, there weren’t nothin’ dirty about this—this here were a disgustin’ story. Dirty’s somethin’ else, ‘cos, see, a dirty story’s a story that
gits yer wood up. Like . . . I ever tell you ‘bout the time I gots
together with Mary Beth Banner and her
twin sister Alice?”
“Hays, don’t—”
“Now that’s a dirty story, Chief—I’m gettin’ lead in my pencil just thankin’ about
it! I had me one ball in Mary Beth’s mouth, the other in Alice’s, and
one each hadda finger up my ass whiles their pussies’re taking turns on
my face. And this were purdy snatch,
Chief, not fulla clap. It were . . . delecterable! Tasted kinda sweet,
like the icing on the rum bums they’se make at Fuller’s Bakery. Sugary
it was, yes sir! And let’s just say that later we played a little game
called Sandwich . . . and I was the cheese.”
Chief Kinion shrugged; he had to admit it—the image, that is. It was pretty erotic. Two beautiful women, identical twins? Neither of ‘em stinkers, and both at the same time? For a moment, the Chief’s mind lapsed, and transposed himself into the image.
I am the cheese, he thought.
Then the Chief’s penis, which hadn’t been hard for some time,
grew . . . turgid.
“And what I did next,” Hays continued, “was I pumped a big
fuck up Mary Beth’s ass, and then her sister sucked it out—that’s
right, Chief, she put her lips right up ta Mary Beth’s bunger, she
did, and sucked my cum right out of her poop-chute—and then she
kissed Mary Beth like somethin’ you’d see in Penthouse, only what
Alice did, see, was whiles she was kissin’, she let my cum fall right
into Mary Beth’s yap . . . and then Mary Beth swallered it all like a
real trooper! It looked like a mama bird feedin’ a baby bird, it did!
And she said it tasted better’n the bisuit gravy they serve up at June’s.
Shee-it, Chief, she even licked her chops afterwards—no lie!”
The image, of course, shattered, and Chief Kinion errped up a
great plume of vomit into the wastecan. Well, two, then three, then
four plumes, splattering the entirety of the contents of his indisputably
large stomach into the Glad Bag-lined can. When he was done the
can looked half full of his puke.
“Aw, dang, Chief,” Micah Hays displayed his earnest
consideration. “That’s damn shore the biggest upchuck I ever seed.
What? Ya et somethin’ bad? Like maybe a bad rib or pork-end. Or
maybe a undercooked potato at Marley’s Hash House?”
When Chief Kinion was finished heaving at the image of Alice
Banner sucking semen out of the rectal vault of Mary Beth—and
the following oral transference of sperm—he shuddered and wiped
his mouth off with a napkin. Yeah, Hays, he thought. A fuckin’
undercooked potato at fuckin’Marley’s . . .
Sometimes, Chief Kinion could just whup Hays right upside
the head, and he was even contemplatin’ that just this second, but
something happened right off that would forestall that possibility.
The phone rang.
“You want me ta git it, Chief?”
“No, Hays, I got puke hangin’ off my face, and I just chucked my
cookies inta the wastecan,” the Chief replied with some sarcasm.
“Why should you git it, ‘specially since the phone’s sittin’ right on yer fuckin’ desk?”
Micah Hays fairly took that ta
mean Jinny’s pussy, not the ranch dip—and I’se wanted to bitch-slap
her so bad fer pullin’that stunt, but, a’corse, I didn’t ‘cos Micah
Hays
don’t never strike a woman.”
Kinion sat bent over the wastecan, his mouth cranked open, and
sweat breaking on his brow. No, no, please, he thought. He didn’t
want to be vomiting in the station; such an act would not seem
becoming of the Luntville Chief of Police. Eventually, though, his
stomach settled down and he reclined back, pawing his massive
belly.
“Hays, I don’t never wanna hear another’a yer dirty stories.
Ever! Ya hear me?”
“Right, Chief. But I’ll tell ya, there weren’t nothin’ dirty about this—this here were a disgustin’ story. Dirty’s somethin’ else, ‘cos, see, a dirty story’s a story that
gits yer wood up. Like . . . I ever tell you ‘bout the time I gots
together with Mary Beth Banner and her
twin sister Alice?”
“Hays, don’t—”
“Now that’s a dirty story, Chief—I’m gettin’ lead in my pencil just thankin’ about
it! I had me one ball in Mary Beth’s mouth, the other in Alice’s, and
one each hadda finger up my ass whiles their pussies’re taking turns on
my face. And this were purdy snatch,
Chief, not fulla clap. It were . . . delecterable! Tasted kinda sweet,
like the icing on the rum bums they’se make at Fuller’s Bakery. Sugary
it was, yes sir! And let’s just say that later we played a little game
called Sandwich . . . and I was the cheese.”
Chief Kinion shrugged; he had to admit it—the image, that is. It was pretty erotic. Two beautiful women, identical twins? Neither of ‘em stinkers, and both at the same time? For a moment, the Chief’s mind lapsed, and transposed himself into the image.
I am the cheese, he thought.
Then the Chief’s penis, which hadn’t been hard for some time,
grew . . . turgid.
“And what I did next,” Hays continued, “was I pumped a big
fuck up Mary Beth’s ass, and then her sister sucked it out—that’s
right, Chief, she put her lips right up ta Mary Beth’s bunger, she
did, and sucked my cum right out of her poop-chute—and then she
kissed Mary Beth like somethin’ you’d see in Penthouse, only what
Alice did, see, was whiles she was kissin’, she let my cum fall right
into Mary Beth’s yap . . . and then Mary Beth swallered it all like a
real trooper! It looked like a mama bird feedin’ a baby bird, it did!
And she said it tasted better’n the bisuit gravy they serve up at June’s.
Shee-it, Chief, she even licked her chops afterwards—no lie!”
The image, of course, shattered, and Chief Kinion errped up a
great plume of vomit into the wastecan. Well, two, then three, then
four plumes, splattering the entirety of the contents of his indisputably
large stomach into the Glad Bag-lined can. When he was done the
can looked half full of his puke.
“Aw, dang, Chief,” Micah Hays displayed his earnest
consideration. “That’s damn shore the biggest upchuck I ever seed.
What? Ya et somethin’ bad? Like maybe a bad rib or pork-end. Or
maybe a undercooked potato at Marley’s Hash House?”
When Chief Kinion was finished heaving at the image of Alice
Banner sucking semen out of the rectal vault of Mary Beth—and
the following oral transference of sperm—he shuddered and wiped
his mouth off with a napkin. Yeah, Hays, he thought. A fuckin’
undercooked potato at fuckin’Marley’s . . .
Sometimes, Chief Kinion could just whup Hays right upside
the head, and he was even contemplatin’ that just this second, but
something happened right off that would forestall that possibility.
The phone rang.
“You want me ta git it, Chief?”
“No, Hays, I got puke hangin’ off my face, and I just chucked my
cookies inta the wastecan,” the Chief replied with some sarcasm.
“Why should you git it, ‘specially since the phone’s sittin’ right on yer fuckin’ desk?”
Micah Hays fairly took that ta
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